


Man's Best Friend

by tuesday



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Family, Friendship, Gen, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark at MIT, Minor James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-04-11 10:44:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19108075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/pseuds/tuesday
Summary: "Can we get a dog?" Tony asked his parents when he was six years old.  He'd heard all about man's best friend by then and really wanted one of his own.  He had drawn up a whole plan for caring for it.  He would walk it.  He would feed it.  He would play with it until it exhausted itself and curled up on his lap for naps.  He would be the best possible dog owner.In which Tony builds himself some friends.





	Man's Best Friend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [listlessness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/listlessness/gifts).



> I loved your prompt! I hope you enjoy this take on it.
> 
> Going with the spelling and capitalization from the wiki, though the tag keeps changing to all caps.
> 
> eta: Now that the anon period is over, I'm finally redating. Sorry if you see this twice! And late, but thank you to Duck for your encouragement while I was working on this. ♥
> 
> For my personal notes: OPD: 6/5. CO: 6/17.

He had the thought early on, when he was a small child trying and failing to get someone's—anyone's—attention. Being loud didn't help. Howard just closed his study door. Being smart didn't help. Maria patted him on the head with a, "That's very nice, dear," but didn't get off the phone, not having so much as glanced at the designs he'd wanted to show her. Crying was embarrassing, though Jarvis brought him juice in a teacup and tiny, triangular sandwich pieces with the crusts cut off. And Tony had never been able to relate to the other kids, because he was too loud, too smart, too much.

"Can we get a dog?" Tony asked his parents when he was six years old. He'd heard all about man's best friend by then and really wanted one of his own. He had drawn up a whole plan for caring for it. He would walk it. He would feed it. He would play with it until it exhausted itself and curled up on his lap for naps. He would be the best possible dog owner.

"Who would take care of it?" Howard asked.

Tony lit up, because this was his chance to prove how prepared he was.

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea," Maria said before Tony could start his spiel.

"We don't pay Jarvis enough to pick up after a dog, too," Howard said. "And I'm certainly not taking care of it."

"Maybe when you're older," Maria said.

"But—" They wouldn't need to. Tony had a plan.

"Your mom said no," Howard said.

That was the end of it.

—

(That wasn't the end of it.)

—

They didn't get a dog when Tony was older, either.

There were a lot of reasons. Tony could barely keep himself out of trouble. He expected Howard to believe he could take care of someone else? He was at boarding school for a while, and they didn't allow pets—until he got kicked out, anyway. His parents weren't about to reward that. He was going to start college soon.

There were always reasons. Once Tony started at MIT, he admitted most of them were valid. He was away at school all the time. He could barely remember to feed himself most days, had in fact inspired one of the older students to practically adopt him. Tony thought _he_ was kind of the guy's replacement dog, because he kept showing up at the lab with sandwiches and bags of chips, then insisted on taking Tony on walks after.

"Living creatures need sunshine and fresh air," Rhodey said. "You're not a robot. Take a break. We can talk about Professor Tanaka's latest seminar."

Robots didn't need sunshine and fresh air. Tony might not be able to take care of a dog, but—

It was something to consider.

—

The thing about Rhodey was that he was great, he really was, but Tony was just a kid, a pet project. Rhodey had this whole other life, with ROTC and friends his own age. He had a family to go home to over winter break, no matter how awesome the labs were at Tony's house and his promise that Howard wouldn't mind if Tony showed him around.

And the truth was, Tony had never gotten over wanting to have a dog.

It started with an idea, the thought of man's best friend. What would Tony want in a best friend? Someone who could keep up with him in the lab or at least help. Someone who would listen. Someone who would maybe … try to take care of him like Rhodey and Jarvis did. Someone Tony couldn't drive away, whose problems he could always fix.

Really, it was a surprise he hadn't thought of a robot sooner.

—

It didn't end up dog- or person-shaped. It was a robot he wanted to help him in the lab. He gave it an arm, a range of motion, and the ability to grip things, plus a camera eye to see. Later, he planned to give it wheels or something to move around, but being mobile could wait until he was sure it wouldn't wander off. The rest was all it needed for a body. Really, the outer shell of it was the least important part. It what was underneath, inside, that mattered here.

Tony started the programming at MIT while he was still in classes, fiddling with it in his off hours. It was a rudimentary learning program, though it didn't seem to do much learning at first. They started with just the camera and mic active and the code pulled up.

"Hello," Tony said.

The code registered his voice, but nothing more.

"Say something," Tony said.

The code indicated it was awaiting input.

"Come on, I know you can hear me."

There was no response.

Tony put his head in his hands. He didn't know why he expected this to work on the first try. Softly, he said, "Dummy."

When he looked up, something on the monitor had changed. Tony's brow wrinkled as he took in the first response: _Designation: Dum-E accepted._

"That's not—" Tony laughed. "That wasn't meant to be your name."

The code was confused again.

"Then again—" Tony shrugged. "It's better than Dog. Okay, Dum-E. Show me what you can do."

—

Dum-E couldn't do much at first. Tony talked to him, but most of his words were so much noise. Even the commands he had programmed in could only be executed in part where they could be executed at all. Dum-E didn't have the arm to move or the ability to grip or hold. He was just a program with an eye and ears.

Still. He was a learning program. Tony wanted him to learn, so he needed to give him stimulation. Tony brought him to the labs during the day, then back to the dorm at night.

"Why are you lugging all that around?" Rhodey asked as Tony hefted the tower that would eventually form the first base of Dum-E's body.

"Oh, you know. Gotta keep in shape. Get my work out in where I can."

"Uh huh."

Rhodey didn't press. Tony didn't explain that he was building Rhodey's replacement for when Rhodey eventually got sick of him. This not talking about it thing worked pretty well.

—

Tony built Dum-E's body at home in his junior year. Rhodey hadn't gotten sick of him yet and didn't look like he was going to any time soon, but Dum-E was developing into his own little person, and he deserved a body. He deserved to be taken on walks, or at least to get out and play a little.

"You're building a workshop helper?" Howard asked.

Tony hummed something that could be mistaken for agreement.

"I suppose that won't be entirely useless."

Dum-E whirred his single arm into the side of the workbench.

"Once you've had a little while to work out the bugs."

Tony didn't mention that this was Dum-E after months of work. It didn't matter. Dum-E was great. He was still learning. Dum-E drew his arm back—and then smacked it into the side of the workbench again. Look at him go. He'd figured out how to move the arm back and forth. He'd really mastered that pivot thing.

"Is it going to keep doing that?" Howard asked.

Tony's hum this time actually was agreement.

"I'll leave you to it."

—

Tony had Dum-E. Really, that was all one person needed. One personal robot of their own.

Then again, people always said it was better to get two dogs. They got lonely.

(Tony got lonely.)

Once Dum-E was settled into the workshop for the summer, Tony returned to the drawing board. He knew what he was doing this time. It went faster. Before he started his senior year, he had a second little workshop friend.

Tony got him started, pulling up the code and tapping the camera. "Hey, you. Can you hear me?"

_Designation: U accepted._

"No, that's not your name. You're just like Dum-E." Well, not _just_ like. Tony had made him to be something new, his own self. Afraid the new guy would take being like Dum-E as a directive, Tony tacked on, "Except you."

_Designation: Dum-U accepted._

"I don't know what I expected." Tony grinned despite himself. "Nice to meet you, U."

—

Not long after, Tony sat down in the workshop one morning and said, "Hey, Dum-E. Let's build your little brother a body."

Dum-E moved his arm. He narrowly avoided smacking into the workbench.

"Hand me that wrench, would you?"

Dum-E groped for the wrench. He got his grippers on it. He lifted it. It dropped with a clatter on the workbench.

"Good try," Tony said. "Let's give it another go."

Dum-E lowered his grippers back to the bench. He picked up a tool. He lifted it. It stayed in his grip all the way until he dropped it in front of Tony. He lifted his camera to Tony's face, seeking praise or validation.

"A for effort." Tony lifted the tool and waved it in Dum-E's face. "F for execution. This is a screwdriver. _Screwdriver_."

Dum-E rotated his grips in the personal equivalent of a head tilt.

"I bet your brother knows the difference between a wrench and a screwdriver." (He didn't.) "Maybe I should give him your body and let him help me build a new one."

Dum-E lowered his arm back to the surface of the workbench. He shoved all of the tools off.

"Bad 'bot," Tony said. "Bad, bad 'bot."

It wasn't much discouragement when he was almost crying with laughter.

—

U liked his new body. He avoided running the arm into the workbench. Overall, he seemed more reliable than his older brother.

"Hey, U, how would you like to learn to work a camera?"

U rotated his grips.

"Yeah, I thought you'd like that."

Dum-E whirred.

"I haven't forgotten you. You can learn to hold the fire extinguisher."

Like many things in Tony's life, this was a mistake. Both took to their tasks with gusto. Both broke the items in their grip. The foam was a lot more annoying to clean up, though.

—

"What keeps happening to my cameras?" Howard asked.

"Lab accidents," Tony said glibly.

"To twelve cameras." It was said flatly, disbelievingly.

"What can I say? Your new grandchildren are clumsy."

Howard got a pinched look at the word grandchildren. "At this rate, it would've been cheaper to get you the dog."

—

"Tony, honey, no robots at the dinner table." Maria patted Dum-E on the strut. "They can wait in the workshop until you're done."

"But look how useful they are," Tony said.

U picked up the salad to pass to Tony. U dumped it in his lap.

"They're a work in progress," Tony amended.

"Maybe they can come back when they don't brandish knives at me when I asked for a spoon," Maria said. "I don't appreciate being menaced over the soup."

That was fair. Tony had only just gotten them to understand that yes, screwdrivers and wrenches really were two different things.

—

Tony got permission to let U and Dum-E live in his lab at MIT. On Dum-E's birthday, counting from the day Tony first booted him up, Tony hosted a little party. He got party hats and draped Dum-E with streamers. Dum-E kept getting tangled in them, but he seemed to like it. Tony and Rhodey ate smashed cake after they let Dum-E try to cut it.

"I'm really glad you decided against the candle," Rhodey said.

"He's gotten better with the fire extinguisher." They probably wouldn't have set the labs on fire. Probably.

U tipped his face to more closely examine the frosting smeared on Dum-E's strut.

"And then we couldn't eat the cake," Rhodey pointed out patiently, not for the first time.

"You couldn't, maybe." Tony swallowed another bite of the chocolate side of the grocery store sheet cake.

"I've nearly seen you through to graduation. I'm not letting you poison yourself now."

Tony hid his smile by shoving more cake in his mouth. When the cake was all picked over and Rhodey had to get to his last class, Tony grabbed a stack of paper napkins and set to work cleaning up Dum-E.

"Happy birthday, buddy," Tony said. He didn't hide his smile this time, let his overwhelming fondness shine through. "I hope you had a good day. This is the first of what I hope are many birthdays yet to come. It'll be great."

—

(It was.)

—

Tony wanted a dog when he was six. When he was sixteen, he built something better—the beginning of a family.


End file.
